The Village Experience

During our first stay in Zambia (2002 - 2005) we were blessed to have a wonderful man, named Godfrey, looking after our yard and garden. He became a friend and now that we were back in Zambia, we wanted to reconnect but did not have a phone number for him and couldn’t remember how to find his village. Had we tried, I know we would have gotten terribly lost! We got a message to a mutual friend who gave the message to someone else and one day, our cell phone rang. It was Godfrey on the other end! He was excited to hear that we were back in Zambia and that we wanted to come and visit his village. Arrangements were made and the next weekend we headed off to Pangwe where Godfrey met us and escorted us into the bush to his village. The main dirt road became two tire tracks through the grass which then became a narrow foot path to his home. We managed to maneuver our vehicle to it’s final resting place in Godfrey’s yard without too much difficulty and there commenced a wonderful village experience. It’s hard to explain such an experience well enough to do it justice and to really enable one to grasp the depth and beauty and hardship and joy that exists in such a place. Really you need to travel to Africa and experience it for yourself!

Godfrey’s village is set within a large rectangle of dirt that is swept everyday to remove debris and make it look neat and tidy. Although the sweeping designates the edges of the yard, Godfrey’s village knows no boundaries. His maize fields stretch out around his buildings, his cattle roam far and wide and people are constantly moving through, whether to visit or greet his visitors, buy something from his shop or seek his help and assistance. There’s the main house which Godfrey has added onto, bit by bit, as he has had money to do so. Then there is the cooking shelter, two house huts, two storage huts, a goat shelter and a bird shelter for chickens and doves. This is where Godfrey lives with his two wives and 10 children.

It was a joyous reunion and the green plastic chairs of honor where brought out and placed under the tree next to the cooking shelter. There we sat and greeted one another, asking about each others families and homes. It wasn’t long before their daughter Hannah, who was quite taken with Keyana, approached and grabbed her hand. She didn’t speak English and Keyana doesn’t speak Tonga, but the universal language of children was already spoken through touch, a smile and a giggle and the two were inseparable for the remainder of our time in the village. One by one the wives and children came to greet us and we felt very welcome.

One of Godfrey’s sons is blind and faces other physical limitations since suffering from cerebral meningitis during our first time in Zambia. We assisted Godfrey in taking Malilwe to the eye doctors in Zimba on more than one occasion, but in the end they were not able to be of much help. We tried to get him into a special needs school in Choma, but were turned away. It was disheartening at the time and yet Godfrey’s faith did not waver that God would provide. Now seeing Malilwe 6 years later, I was pleasantly surprised to see how tall he’s grown, how his struggle to move around has lessened and was blessed by his huge grin and Tonga greeting. He uses his hands to ‘see’ and although this was unnerving for Josiah and Keyana at first, after explaining that Malilwe was touching their arms and faces to get a picture of how they looked, they relaxed and accepted this new way of seeing. After greeting Malilwe, Anthony took him around the side of the van and placed him on the drivers seat. He smiled as he felt the steering wheel and told his dad in Tonga that he was going to drive the van. He sat there for the longest time, touching all the knobs and dials and discovering the horn, before he fell asleep at the wheel.

As we sat in the shade of the tree, a little girl toddled over and Godfrey picked her up and sat her on his lap and said, “this is Karlene.” I wondered if I had heard right and didn’t know what to say as the surprise of having someone named after me was very humbling. Godfrey shared the story of how both his wives were expecting and gave birth the same week. The first baby girl they named Kleanza (MCC volunteer before us). Days later, the second daughter was born and they named her Karlene. But the joyfulness of the week was overshadowed by the passing of the first little girl. It was so sad to hear and I wondered how one deals with the joy of life and the sorrow of death at the same time. Infant morality is high in Zambia and many people don’t name their babies until they have reached 4 or 5 months for fear of them dying. I asked to hold Karlene and marveled on the specialness of having someone named after me. It’s hard to describe but it was unlike anything I had felt before.

Godfrey gave us a tour of his village and as we set out to inspect his fields of maize, the kids all fell into line and did the walk about with us. Keyana and Hannah were still holding hands because Hannah was intent on not letting Keyana stray to far from her grasp. Godfrey’s fields of maize were looking good and that would mean a bountiful harvest. He showed us the addition to his main house and his little shop that he stocks with the main cooking essentials as a way to garner some extra income along with the extra maize he had grown to sell. His goat herd had increased and he informed us that he had recently sold a large number of goats receiving K100, 000/goat which is equivalent to $20.00/goat. Another new addition to his village was his heard of cattle, which he did not have on our previous visit 6 years ago and which is a sign of wealth and status and quite the accomplishment for a small scale farmer to procure. Inside his home of handmade bricks and sporting a new tin roof, he showed us the generator he had bought and his newly acquired sewing machine which he is using to teach himself how to sew. I was impressed by Godfrey’s hard work and ingenious fortitude in finding more ways of making money to support his growing family and being successful in them!

In the meantime, our soccer ball had made it’s debut and the kids were having fun kicking it around the yard. Josiah joined in the fun and Keyana tried as well, but it was rather difficult to do with Hannah hanging on her arm. But the fun didn’t end there, Godfrey introduced our children to his baby goats, bunnies and guinea pigs and they enjoyed the Zambian version of a petting zoo!

And as always, when you visit a Zambian village, your time there would not be complete without a traditional meal of nshima (thick cornmeal porridge made from maize), soup (similar to a tomato gravy) and salty fried chicken, the meat of welcome. Godfrey’s wives and sister-in-law and eldest daughter cooked up a feast of boiled pumpkin and roasted maize as appetizers followed by the main course, all enjoyed by eating with our hands after washing them in a stream of water warmed over the fire and poured from a pitcher into a basin. It is a commonly held belief in Zambia that food tastes better when eaten with your hands and our children enjoyed having an excuse to do so. I’m sure that’s why Keyana likes nshima so much because she can play and eat at the same time! After pronouncing the word, “dakuta” (meaning I am satisfied), the dishes and plates were cleared, hands were washed again and the visiting continued. The Headman even came by to give us his greetings and to ask if we remembered him, which we did since he was present at the party Godfrey threw for Josiah to welcome him into our family when he was just a baby. The Headman seemed pleased to know we had not forgotten him.

Numerous people flitted in and out of Godfrey’s village all day, and he would excuse himself from time to time to be of help to those he could. Throughout the afternoon, we would catch his son Mike peeking in the windows of the van, curious about how it looked inside and you could tell, wishing he could get inside. So when the time came for us to leave, Anthony asked Mike if he’d like to take a ride in the ‘motor’ to which Mike’s reply was a big grin and an enthusiastic nod. But it wasn’t just Mike who hopped in, all of Godfrey’s children piled in and Anthony took them for a short spin around the yard. When they came to a stop everyone got out except for Hannah who was sitting next to Keyana and hanging onto her arm for dear life. She refused to get out of the van. Godfrey tried to coax her out but she let him know in Tonga that she was going wherever Keyana was going and inched further and further into the corner making it impossible for Godfrey to reach her unless he himself got into the van. Nothing he could say would convince her to come out so I told Keyana that if she came out of the van, Hannah would most likely follow her. And so she did, but as soon as her feet touched the ground she grabbed Keyana and began to pull her away from the van. If she couldn’t go with Keyana, then she was going to make sure that Keyana stayed with her. It was dear to see the friendship that had developed in just a few short hours, even through a language barrier. That’s the beauty of childhood friendship. It’s pure and true acceptance uncomplicated by things of gender, class or skin color. What a different place our world would be if all of us looked at friendship through the eyes of a child.

When we said goodbye to Malilwe, he felt Keyana’s arms and face and hair once more and then grab her hand and in Tonga said, “Keyana has to stay here with us.” Everyone laughed and Malilwe smiled. Before we left, I purchased a Zambia outfit for Keyana that Godfrey had sewn and took a picture of her with Godfrey the tailor. She was so excited and stated with gusto and wide eyes, “Mom, now I’m a Zambian princess.”

Josiah said goodbye to his soccer buddies, Keyana to Hannah whom Godfrey had to hold back from getting into the van again, me to Karlene and our family to theirs. We piled into the van and drove away waving and sending out our sincere, “Twalumba’s” (thankyous) for a lovely day. As we drove down the single foot path, I thanked God for bringing us back to Zambia and for our memorable, village experience.